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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173086">take it easy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwit/pseuds/ghostwit'>ghostwit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Explicit Sexual Content, Finger Sucking, Hand Jobs, How could I . forget about that. ah., Is thatwhat this is? I don't write power dynamics usually hsujytgdtgsd/, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Nothing crazy--just a blindfold and like. being left alone., Platonic Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sensory Deprivation, but it can be read romantic if you want. I didn't ham up them being buddies or anything., some pet names but nothing crazy., whoops he he</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:49:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,456</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173086</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwit/pseuds/ghostwit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ah, hahaha, Benn," His grin pulls down in the corners, closer to an awkward grimace, “you need something?”</p><p>“Not in particular.” Benn says, nosing in so Shanks tilts his head, easy for him, always, despite the tension tracking heavy up his spine. “Think you might, though.”</p><p>(Or: Shanks takes a break.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks &amp; Benn Beckmann, Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks/Benn Beckman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>take it easy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Me, a while ago: Shanks needs to take a bubble bath or something. chill out.<br/>My brain: .......or?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>      "Captain," Benn sinks teeth into Shanks' shoulder, feels the skin go taut and the muscle cord at the sensation.</p><p>      "Ah, hahaha, Benn," His grin pulls down in the corners, closer to an awkward grimace, “you need something?” </p><p>      “Not in particular.” Benn says, nosing in so Shanks tilts his head, easy for him, always, despite the tension tracking heavy up his spine. “Think you might, though.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>      "What do you want, captain?" Closer to a statement than a question, Benn places his hand on the flat of Shanks' abdomen, relishes in the keening whine it pulls out of him like a particularly indulgent drag off a cigarette. Hot and lingering, tickling along the roof of his mouth. </p><p>      (“<em> I’m going to fill this tub with hot water.” A quiet nod, a cocked head and a loose grin. “You’re gonna tell me when it gets cold. Just tap the rim of the tub, yeah? I’ll hear you, captain, I promise.”  </em></p><p>
  <em>       Shanks grins, still so much of that construction in his reply, “And if I get lonely?”, he grabs for Beckman’s hips, pulls them flush to his own in half of a don’t-leave-me plea. His first mate chuckles. Steam licks along the ceiling as Benn turns the faucet, so like cigarette smoke in the way it curls and wisps. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>       “It’ll be worth it. I’ll take care of you, captain.” Half a laugh huffed through his nose, words settling like warm embers in Beckman’s throat. Shanks flushes bright, eyes eager and smile crooking.)  </em>
</p><p>      "In--my mouth, please, my mouth, Benn," Shanks gasps, ragged and broken around the edges, cock jumping tightly at his thigh at the thought. </p><p>      "My dick?" Beckman says, quirks an eyebrow he knows Shanks can't see. </p><p>      "Just your hands, please, in me,", gasped, throat almost wrecked preemptively and rusty from disuse. "If-if that's okay?" he squeaks, quiet and vulnerable, and Benn's only response, beyond the fond softening of his brow, is to slip two fingers between his captain's teeth, stroke soothingly along the frantic curl of his tongue before hooking in the velvet of his cheek. </p><p>      Prying him apart, yes, <em>good,</em> "I missed you, it’s cold," Shanks slurs, saliva dripping messy between Beckman's fingers as he dips a third into his mouth. He's so warm in here. Almost wishing he'd asked for his cock. "Missed all of you, where is everyone," he strains up against the blindfold, chest glistening with a saltwater film where he keens up and out of the water into the touch. The line of his erection is stark through the clinging fabric of his boxers, hips still submerged, and Beckman traces the dark cut with his eyes.</p><p>      "Oh," Beckman chuckles, employing his thumb to pinch along the bottom row of Shanks' teeth so the slick of his gums smears against Beckman's knuckles, "I don't think they'd want to see you like this, captain." Shanks stiffens immediately, the light playing glossy and dreamy over his writhing skin stuttering like film, breath hitching in his throat with an <em> ugly </em>, wet vulnerability that immediately fills Beckman with dread. Rarely does he misstep with his deliberate tread, especially where it matters, and he curses himself for it.</p><p>      "Shh, shh," he doesn't retract his fingers from Shank's mouth, can envision the punched-out whine and full-body tremor it'll earn him, instead sliding them along the length of his tongue right before the point of gagging, deep and slow. <em> I'm here. </em>He lets his other hand lift, cradle his captain's jaw before following up into his hairline, fingers brushing consolingly along his forehead, one after the other. </p><p>      "Didn't mean it like that, baby, you know that." Shanks makes a fluttery noise in his throat, one that flexes around Beckman's fingers to pull him just a little deeper, and, god, he can't help the flush that starkens his features into new dimension. "It's just you're a little messy right now, captain, isn't anything you'd want people to see." He starts on a word, but Beckman presses <em> down </em>, secures his tongue to the floor of his mouth.  </p><p>      "Just nod, baby, it's okay." He swallows around the intruding digits, fuck, <em> tight, </em>the bob of his head abrupt enough to get the water around him sloshing past his ears. They stay like that for a moment, Shanks breathing in shuddery drags and Beckman’s hands stroking his tongue and hair in tandem. </p><p>      “You wanna get off?” Another nod, saliva gushing tacky between his lips and around Beckman’s knuckles, a brilliant pink stretching from beneath the black of the blindfold to tint Shanks’ ears. He thrusts shallowly, once, then twice, feels a quiet thrill at the way Shanks bobs with the pump of his fingers, utterly pliant.</p><p>      “Yeah, shh, no problem.” A swallow around those fingers before he draws back, using his thumb and forefinger to stretch his mouth wide and thin, sliding up and down with the clinical manner of an orthodontist inspecting teeth. The contrast between the tender scraping of his voice and the rough tug against his strained lips has Shanks gasping, hips writhing shallowly in the water, especially when Benn's other hand comes down to lay flat against him and fish him out of the slit in his boxers.</p><p>      He thumbs over the head, callous on plush, takes in the way the bare touch makes Shank’s thighs tremble in place, strain to push up against his palm. There’s saliva, filmy and white-capped slipping down the length of his cock, and it makes Benn’s lips quirk. "Go ahead," he purrs, grinning when Shanks starts to fuck up into his fist, hips giving a little click with the sudden, frantic motion, “Just like that.” </p><p>      For as much as Benn criticizes his captain for impulsivity and thoughtlessness--if only, if only it were that, the man much easier to wrangle if not for the overlapping machinations absently undergirding each step--there’s something clean in the pleasure of a yonkou stripped to his barest impulse, to the feel of Beckman’s fingers wrapping long and lazy around the length of his cock and the orgasm building at his navel. </p><p>      “Good boy, keep it up.” Benn’s head tilts with familiar affection, and Shanks’ mouth parts on a shuddering moan to show pink tongue and white teeth. Water sloshing, cold when it splashes against the older’s wrist, a familiar weight against his palm that hums with heat. “Do you wanna come? Just like this?” he croons, and Shanks nods, fervent and gasping, pace messy with urgency. Badly, does Beckman want to dip and kiss him, press that gratuitous moan into his own throat. </p><p>      “Come on, then” he says, tongue dry in his mouth, meeting Shanks on a downstroke in a way that makes him gasp and writhe. </p><p>      He keens, and he’s quivering against his own stomach before spurting over his own chest, face screwing up beneath the blindfold, “<em> Hrnk! </em>” Benn works him through it with a warm grin, coos praise until his dick goes limp against him and the thumb running insistent circles over his slit makes him try to jerk away, just a little. </p><p>      He’s still gasping and boneless as Beckman lifts his ankles with a delicate hand, drops them over the edge of the tub so he can reach in and pull the drain, popping quietly with an innocuous, wet suction. He’s strong enough to slide his ankles along, pull them forward until Shanks slumps out of the tub and against Beckman’s clothed front, one lengthy motion that has Shanks’ lax spine curling and flexing in time. </p><p>      “You did great,” Benn says, presses a kiss to his wet hairline, doesn’t cringe away from the feel of cold, wet skin or the come smearing across his v-neck, “Really good.”</p><p>      Shanks whines--Benn can picture his face beneath the blindfold from where it’s pressed into his shoulder, pupils dilated and gaze rolling as his dark lashes flutter--reaches for the tent in Beckman’s boxers with damp fingers. They leave little beads of water across the cotton, soaking in as Beckman takes his hand and lifts it to lay his lips against the jut of his inner wrist. Unbearably, unbearably fond. </p><p>      “It’s okay, let’s lay down. Relax.” He shushes him, and Shanks goes boneless against him once more. </p><p>      “Okay,” he mumbles, “thanks, man.” Beckman laughs, low and humming from his chest when Shanks kisses his collarbone, chaste and wet with bath water, unabashed in his nakedness and unconcerned with anything except the points of contact Benn’s constructed to keep him propped. </p><p>      “Whatever you need, captain.”</p><p> </p><p>      (He splays on the bed instantly with a luxurious sigh, shaking those wet locks like a dog when lithe hands card through to undo the blindfold, “Come on, Benn.” <em> Not yet. </em>Another brow lift, his unpredictable captain wringing him of his senses. </p><p>      “Weren’t you gonna <em> fuck me </em>?”)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I love writing people finding absolute euphoria in the most mediocre handjob ever. This draft was actually supposed to be finished up in like... August? but I forgot about it so like. here's to the horniest month of the year because this is probably my last work for this month 🍻 I don't care much for the actual prose of this piece--I think it's pretty sloppy and there's some weird shifts--and it was also the most embarrassing thing I've ever written, despite not being all that sappy or anything. </p><p>Also, yeah they don't kiss because &lt;--- AkaTaka brain jdhgtush. If you managed to enjoy this, um, good for you and thank you very much. Please feel free to leave a comment. </p><p>hazeism.tumblr.com</p><p>AO3 KEEPS SAYING THIS WAS POSTED ON THE 24TH&gt;?? HELP?? It put it four days back in the tags  . okay. whatever. this is f.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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